


The Room

by MsImpala67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom!Sam, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Wincest - Freeform, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 12:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9322646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsImpala67/pseuds/MsImpala67
Summary: Dean and Sam need reassurance after a particularly rough hunt.





	

There’s a room in the bunker that only gets used on special nights.

It’s a bedroom, halfway in between Dean and Sam’s own bedrooms, with the door closed tight, because they don’t get to use that room whenever they want. In fact, they try to use that room as little as possible. Maybe things would be better if they used it more. Maybe they’d be worse. But there’s an unspoken agreement that no matter how much they both want to live their whole fucking lives in that room, they don’t.

Only when they need to.

Dean knows as he turns into the hallway, adrenaline still pumping through his veins from the hunt, that tonight is a rare night when he’ll sleep there. In that room. And sure enough, the door is already open and there’s a soft rectangle of light spilling out. Waiting for him.

“Dean.”

Sam’s voice cuts through the silence of the bunker, hitting some deep chord inside of Dean as he makes his way there, walking slowly, savoring. The voice means that Sam’s alive. Means that Dean didn’t almost lose him tonight, that he doesn’t have to dwell on those few seconds when he wasn’t sure if Sam was breathing. He lets that voice pull him into the bedroom, closing the door behind him, shutting out everything but this room, and his beautiful Sammy stretched out on the bed.

“Sammy,” he answers.

Sam is already undressed, his long body bared to the lamplight and Dean, sleek and tan and perfect. Dean walks right up to the bed, shrugging out of his plaid shirt, then his t-shirt, but he doesn’t touch Sam. Not yet.

“You know I like to be the one to take your clothes off,” he smiles. “You had some of the fun without me.”

Sam closes his eyes and lets out a huge breath, like just the sound of Dean’s voice has some huge effect on him, does things to him. “Sorry,” he breathes, no real contrition in his voice.

Dean unbuckles his belt, the sound making Sam’s eyes open and focus in on him as he pushes his jeans down, boxer-briefs going too, until all that’s left is the two of them, open and stripped down in every sense.

The moment that follows is technically silent, but Dean can hear Sam, can hear him practically sobbing for Dean as he squirms on the bed, begging for Dean to touch him. Dean’s sure Sam can hear him too, his entire being crying out _it’s okay, we’re here and together and you’re fine and it’s okay_.

“Please,” Sam whispers.

And Dean moves then, because he’ll give Sam anything he wants tonight, here in this room.

Dean puts one knee up on the foot of the bed, breath catching in his throat because Sam just opens up for him, spreads his legs like he was born to. Dean settles between them and covers Sam’s body with his, an indulgence, something so decadent he almost can’t take it. “You’re shivering,” he comments, dragging his lips over Sam’s collar bone.

“Need you.” It’s the only reply, and it’s all Dean needs.

He doesn’t hesitate to kiss Sam then, because they are here in their room, safe and together and giving in for a night. And oh, that kiss feels better than anything, until Sam runs his hands down Dean’s back, carefully bumping his fingers over each notch of his spine, not stopping until his hands are on Dean’s ass, pulling him down, pulling him closer, so that their cocks are slotted right up against each other, hard and leaking, seeking each other.

“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean growls, right into Sam’s mouth, licking his way through Sam’s lips.

They get the whole night in this room, and Dean plans on taking advantage of that, but not yet. He has things to do first. Sam’s eyes grow wide as Dean carefully draws his hand up, placing it across Sam’s throat, right against the bruises the ghost left.

Dean doesn’t squeeze, although they’ve played that game before. This time isn’t about that. This is covering the wound, feeling the blood still pumping beneath it, telling Sam that he will protect him, always. Sam stares into his eyes, as trusting and needy as a puppy. Dean feels him tremble under his touch, and it breaks him.

“Sammy,” he says, more emotional than he’ll ever admit outside of this room. “Sammy, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Sam nods, squeezing his eyes closed and pulling Dean down closer, closer, until their foreheads and noses are pressed together, lips touching without kissing, bodies trying to melt into the one being they have always felt they were.

They stay like that for a long time, just breathing, feeling, existing together.

And then Sam’s cock twitches against Dean’s.

“You need something, baby boy?” Dean chuckles softly, stroking a finger down Sam’s cheek.

“You. Always need you.” Sam is practically shaking, although he’s trying hard not to let Dean feel it. “Gotta feel you, Dean.”

Dean nods, sliding down to run his tongue over Sam’s chest, circling his nipples. He closes his lips and sucks, moving with the arch of Sam’s back as it comes off the bed. “Do you feel that?”

“Yes.” Sam’s already gone, voice hoarse and weak.

Dean lowers himself down Sam’s body, teeth scraping over hard abs as Sam’s long fingers tug at his hair, dipping his tongue into Sam’s belly button, making him cry out when his hand runs up Sam’s thigh to his balls and squeezes.

“Feel that?” It’s not porn talk, although it could be if that’s the mood they were in. It’s just Dean giving Sam what he needs, always giving Sam what he needs. He squeezes slightly harder, scooting down even further to mouth at Sam’s balls, swirling his tongue up to the base of Sam’s cock.

“Dean, yes, please…”

Dean takes his time, making sure Sam feels every lick, every suck, every dig of Dean’s fingers into his thighs and his ass. He worships Sam’s cock like it’s holy, like he’s kneeling at an altar of something greater than him, something he can only touch reverently and hope to draw communion from. Sam takes it beautifully, big wracking breaths turning into whimpers and groans as he all but thrashes on the bed, clutching and clawing at any part of Dean he can find.

“So gorgeous,” Dean mumbles, mouth still full as he sucks Sam down as far as he can.

“Wanna feel…wanna feel you inside me, Dean.”

Again, Dean can’t ignore the plea, won’t make Sam wait for anything he wants. Instantly, Dean’s mouth is on Sam’s hole, probing with his tongue, begging for Sam to open up, to let him in. Sam spreads his legs open wider, locks his fingers around the back of Dean’s head and pulls him closer, nothing shameful or dirty about anything they are doing. Dean can’t help but smile against Sam’s skin, even as he fucks him with his tongue, shoving his hands underneath him to pull his ass up even higher.

“I know you feel that, don’t you?” It is dirty talk now, as the lust in them pours out, allowed to flourish in this room.

“God, Dean…yeah…feels so good.”

The next minutes are a blur of Sam’s long legs, greedy moans, and twitches of muscle as Dean grabs the lube kept on the table by the bed and slicks up his fingers, sinking two in with ease, Sam’s body just opening up and taking it hungrily. He curls his fingers into that spot that makes Sam whine and jerk, makes him gasp and dance on Dean’s fingers, and Dean watches everything, completely mesmerized by the gorgeous creature in front of him.

Watching Sam is so distracting that Dean forgets his own needs for a while. But then Sam is pulling him up, licking the taste of himself out of Dean’s mouth and thrusting his hips up, making Dean’s swollen cock jump. Dean needs this too, needs to feel Sam around him, hot and tight and alive.

Sam drips lube on his cock for him, stroking him a few times with those strong fingers that make Dean want to die right there because nothing will ever be that good. But somehow, it gets better when Sam guides him to his hole, both of them breathing into the other’s mouth and trying not to come all over themselves as Dean pushes in slowly, inch by inch, feeling every bit of Sam against him.

Finally. Finally they are connected the way they should be, the way they don’t often let themselves be, the way that makes both of them feel like they are home, like they are whole again. Dean stops for a moment and just rests in Sam, absorbs his heat, the way he’s clenching around his dick even as he pulls Dean’s face down for a gentle kiss.

Neither of them is in a hurry until Sam shifts his hips just a tiny bit, the friction enough to make him bite his lip and hold back a scream.

“Don’t do that,” Dean tells him. “It’s okay to be loud in here. I wanna hear you.”

Dean moves then, slowly withdrawing and pushing back in, and Sam opens his mouth and lets out a groan that Dean feels in his core, a groan that echoes somewhere deep inside of both of them. It’s all Dean can take and then he’s pounding into Sam, skin slapping against skin, the bed creaking with the force of his thrusts. Sam falls apart beneath him, grabbing Dean’s ass and urging him on, lifting his legs so Dean can go deeper, harder.

The heat builds in Dean as he watches Sam, so flushed and sweaty beneath him, coming loose at the seams from Dean’s love. It swells and rises, Dean’s rhythm faltering, knowing he isn’t going to last much longer. He reaches for Sam’s neglected cock, circles his hips until Sam shouts and Dean knows he’s hit his prostate. He strokes Sam hard and fast, slamming into him as good as he knows how.

“Dean, oh God, right there Dean, yes…” Sam probably isn’t even aware of the words he’s saying, but Dean’s drinking them in like gospel, feeling Sam’s cock swell even more in his hand, looking down and watching as Sam’s balls draw up, ready to empty themselves over Dean’s hand.

“Come for me, Sammy, give it to me now,” Dean orders, and Sam does. He arches his back, opens his mouth in a silent cry, and stares straight into Dean’s eyes as he lets go. Dean can only stare back in wonder, his own orgasm suddenly erupting out of him as he feels Sam spilling hot and thick over his fingers.

They always come together. It’s not something they intentionally strive for. It’s just that when one of them falls over the edge, it’s too intense, too much for the other to watch without immediately convulsing with his own orgasm. It’s just another thing they do at the same time, not willing to leave the other behind.

Dean collapses on top of Sam, not caring about the sticky mess between them, letting Sam see him suck his own fingers clean of Sam’s taste before burying his face in his neck. He doesn’t pull out, not yet. Not until he softens and slips out on his own, only parting when his body makes him.

Sam keeps his arms and legs wrapped around Dean as they drift to sleep. It will be a mess to clean up in the morning, but neither of them cares.

When the sun comes up, they will leave this room and go back to their own bedrooms, close the door again until the next time they need it. But for tonight, they will enjoy the safety of it, revel in their own tiny oasis, where they have no rules, just each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Feedback always appreciated! XOXO


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